


Service Weapons

by CourierNinetyTwo



Series: I Am Thou, Thou Art I [4]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Bondage, Boot Worship, F/F, Gunplay, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 12:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: After years of being molded into the perfect heiress, Milady shows Haru how powerful unleashing her desires can be.





	Service Weapons

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by KC5rings!

Haru always felt like someone had sealed her in glass.

That someone was her father more often than not, for he sought the perfect heir and was happy to mold one with impassive hands before putting her out on display for any rich, suitable bidders. In her mother's absence, he was the one who taught her how to be a lady; how to speak, what to wear, what it took to maintain manners under any circumstance because no insult was worth the cost of appearing undignified. The expectations of her fiancé were much the same but carried a different edge -- Sugimura wanted her body _and_ soul with all that entailed, and Haru wasn't even sure he planned to wait for the wedding night.

So when Milady emerged from the conflict in her soul, something vital shattered.

She was left raw in the days that followed, trying to make sense of what her father had wrought upon the Okumura name before his sudden, violent death, only to be dragged into endless corporate intrigue when the board and shareholders alike descended like vultures. Without Akira's help, Haru wasn't sure she would have escaped from the frenzy intact -- brittle, but whole -- or slipped the noose of her engagement so cleanly, but the fact was, her world had still been turned completely upside down and showed little signs of righting itself again.

There were ways to deal. Haru knew she possessed a wealth that gave her almost inviolable privilege now, but some things simply couldn't be bought. Several visits to a grief counselor had left her with a bill and list full of coping mechanisms, yet there seemed to be no cure for the emptiness that resided in the center of her chest. Well, slightly to the left. 

Being part of the Phantom Thieves helped. The thrill of swinging her axe into a Shadow was only overcome by firing a grenade into a pack of them, only to watch those that tried to flee gunned down by Milady's endless barrels, each shot a kiss of black powder to the air. Haru always shook with energy when they climbed back into Morgana's seats, but was never sure on how to spend her exhilaration, what end it could be put to. Her eyes usually wandered to Ann and Makoto and where their hands were quietly linked together, cursing the jealousy that inevitably burned through her.

They were a lovely couple, which is why it stung so much. Of course someone like Makoto would be sweetly devoted, and of course a girl like Ann would pursue her passions to the fullest, and Haru feared she would fail at both if given the opportunity. Even her Persona was a symbol of sacred betrayal, a branded thief who lost both heart and head, and she was beginning to consider relationships simply wouldn't work for someone like her, locked away in the highest tower Okumura money could build.

Except that did little to cool the fire in her blood after one particular battle, when she had accompanied them and Akira into a drawn-out fight against an incredibly aggressive Shadow. It took some time for their leader to determine its weaknesses, but once he did, Ann called down a column of fire, knocking the creature prone before passing a surge of energy into Makoto's hands, which summoned a nuclear explosion between steel-knuckled fists for another critical blow. It was then and only then those slender fingers unclenched, offering the strength pulsing through her to Haru for the killing strike.

Just touching Makoto's palm had set her ablaze, filling her from head to toe with such potency that she almost howled her Persona's name, calling for every gun in Milady's arsenal at once to fire. The Shadow died in a hail of bullets, dissipating into harmless black smoke and leaving Haru staggered when the spike of adrenaline bottomed out. She had sustained a few injuries earlier in the fight, but thought nothing of it until Ann's hand rested on her shoulder, offering the gentle balm of Carmen's abilities to heal the worst of it. When Makoto directed Johanna to provide a salve for the rest, Haru blushed, too stunned to protest that it was a waste of power for some minor scratches.

Having the attentions of both women at once was nearly unbearable, in the best sort of way. That fire hadn't died down for weeks, not until Haru was honestly considering hiring an escort to bleed the tension from her body, and her fingers had been inches from a phone when a handful of rose petals suddenly spilled across the vanity. Beneath the petals was a formal-looking card that had not been there a moment before, vibrant pink ink looping around a golden fleur-de-lis embossed in its center. 

Haru leaned forward to discern each curving character, alarmed but curious to read the message there. _My princess, I would have tea with you this evening. If you are in accord, simply take this card and think of me._

"Think of--" She began, and then glanced up into the mirror. 

Milady stood there in the reflection, and Haru held in a scream of shock, but a blink later the Persona had vanished from view. The rose petals were gone as well, although the card remained, and felt remarkably solid between her fingertips when she picked it up. The back of it was blank, but a faint and flowery perfume wafted from its surface, possessing a few heavier notes that separated it from the bottles right beside her. When she breathed in deep again, Haru realized what the underlying scents were: polished iron and gunpowder. Heat uncoiled up her spine as if she had just been lashed, and trying to determine the rhyme or reason for this offer no longer mattered. 

"Milady, as if you are ever far from my thoughts." Haru whispered, then closed her eyes, trying to picture every detail of the Persona -- the blade woven below pink ruffles, the gilded vanes of her fan, how bright and inhuman eyes shone in the hollows of a curved masque -- before the world lost its edges.

When Haru opened her eyes again, the shaky boundaries of the Metaverse were setting themselves in place, but the room around her felt safe, isolated. The vanity had been replaced with a curvy white table that wouldn't have been out of place in France's baroque heyday, and in its center was a magnificent teaset, both cups and kettle rimmed with gold. Milady sat in a new seat across from her, mask held up to direct the Persona's eyes, as there was no true face against the lacy white flare of a shirt collar.

"Is something wrong?" Thinking as such was Haru's first instinct; she certainly had not awakened to this power because of things in her life being as they should.

 _In a sense, my princess, but this wrong is not your responsibility to right._ With a light gesture of her fan, Milady made the kettle rise, pouring steaming tea evenly into each cup. _At my core, I am a creature of rebellion, and your revolution was long denied. Not every battle is yet won._

Haru took the tea when it was offered, bowing her head in thanks before taking a small sip. It was still painfully hot, burning down the back of her tongue, but that was half of why she had been so impulsive. "What battle do you mean?"

 _That of your own heart._ Without a mouth to drink with, the Persona simply set her own cup on a small porcelain plate, in the manner one does when accepting something out of politeness. _I feel your longing as if it is my own. It echoes through every part of your being._

A faint flush colored Haru's cheeks. If that was the least of what Milady was privy to, there were a whole host of dreams and fantasies that were far more damning. "There's nothing I can do about that." 

 _No, Empress._ Haru straightened up a bit; it was rare for the Persona to use the more formal title of the two. _But I can._

"How can--" She started to say, only to stop short when Milady vanished from view. 

Gloved hands gripped her shoulders from behind a second later, and Haru shuddered at the sudden touch, although her skin ached for the contact. The next words were whispered inside her head by an ephemeral throat, invisible but flush with heat. _Each secret you hold in your soul lays before me like a deck of cards. I may pluck out whichever I choose, and play a hand that will leave you undone._  

"Oh." What was there to do but gasp at such an offer, when that longing Milady spoke of was now a dizzying need, starting in the quickened beat of Haru's heart but daring lower, between her thighs like a Gordian knot of heat. She could not sever it herself, but the figure behind her carried blade in hand. "Yes. Take whatever you wish. It's yours."

Silken fingertips slid through Haru's hair and over her black domino mask, blotting out the room with a vermilion haze. When they pulled away, she could see nothing at all, but that brought a quiet thrill in place of fear, and when Milady guided her out of the chair and down onto both knees, Haru's heart started to beat out of control. A smooth skirt pressed against her cheek before she felt it part open like water, the scent of roses and gun oil dousing her senses.

Urged forward by a grasp against the back of her skull, Haru's knees nudged against one massive rifle barrel as she was enveloped by the skirt, pressure wrapping tight around her head like an executioner's hood. Nerves unsettled her for a moment, each breath hitched until Milady's voice resonated through her again. _Surrender and be sated, my princess. You are protected here._

It seemed so simple once said aloud; her Persona had defended her from far greater threats than darkness, and thus Haru bowed her head in quiet acquiescence. Something shifted in the floor beneath her, and she could breathe easier again. The veil across her mask was lifted, revealing a room filled by a golden throne that was lined with plush red velvet, and sitting on it was no other than Ann, clad in Panther's crimson glory.

Haru's jaw dropped before she could stop herself, and only fell further when she saw Makoto on one knee besides the imperious seat, wearing leather and steel with the confidence of her regal title. Ann's hand was resting against her hair, stroking it as one would a favored hound, and Haru suddenly had to look away, flustered by their intimacy. For a moment, she could only study the narrow carpet under her knees, its woven length carving a path directly to the feet of the throne -- and Ann's heels, latex glossy from the light overhead.

"Haru," she jumped slightly at the sound of her own name, for it was Ann who had spoken and not Milady, "I hope you're not trying to keep me waiting."

With the realization that she had to move forward, Haru started an awkward shuffle from her position, not feeling it was proper to stand. When her balance started to waver, she tried to use both arms to catch herself, only to realize there were now tight leather bands around her elbows, cuffed tight to the sides of her vest. It kept Haru's arms locked in supplication; she could turn her hands out to plead or clutch them close to her stomach, but any other sort of mobility was strictly forbidden.

Bound and disguised as Noir, she moved by inches until reaching Ann's throne. Haru realized she was on the same level as Makoto now, but the other woman wasn't tied down, free to move as she desired, although Ann's touch seemed to function as a perfectly serviceable leash. With some hesitation, Haru met the dark red eyes framed by bolted metal, expecting anger or jealousy from seeing another piece brought into play, but all she saw was a forcibly restrained hunger, desire trapped and waiting. 

It made her thighs press tightly together, and Haru silently cursed the restriction of her shorts and leggings for muffling the friction she sought. The movement caught Ann's attention, however, and her fingers slipped away from Makoto's hair, eyes narrowing slightly. "Did I give you permission to do that?"

Haru straightened up like a rod had just struck her back, for the fire in Ann's words brooked no resistance. It was her thief's visage honed to sharp claw-like points, wielding a knowledge only the focus of one's fantasies could possess. "No, ma'am."

"I prefer Mistress." Ann shot back, only to casually wave away Haru's attempt at an apology. She burned with the urge to make amends, but her strings were pulled in another direction. "Now will you serve the tea before I have to start coming up with punishments?"

The last word sent a shiver right up Haru's spine, but she didn't want to appear purposefully obstinate, turning to look around for what she would need. To one side of the carpet was a wheeled silver cart, topped with a tray that only had a single cup, the kettle beside it already flush with steam. With the same careful movements she had used to reach the throne, Haru moved by inches towards the cart, grasping at the handle on the side so it could be pushed over into Ann's reach.  

Thus confined to her knees, Haru had to tilt carefully to reach for the cup, using that leverage to pass it to her other hand before doing the same with the kettle. It was painstaking, hot metal almost searing through purple gloves as she began to pour the tea under Ann and Makoto's watchful gazes, willing her hands not to shake. A few centimeters shy of the brim, Haru held the cup tightly while returning the kettle to its proper place, and moved to kneel in front of the throne once more, offering the tea up like a precious gift.

This was artifice and ritual, something written into her bones by years of practice, yet there was a distinct pleasure when Ann took the cup, pursing full lips to blow away the opaque coils spiraling from the tea. Haru watched enrapt as the first sip was swallowed, watching for any subtle signals of displeasure, but what came was a soft and satisfied hum, that simple sound enough to send a frisson of heat from head to toe.

It was something she hadn't quite understood until that moment; that giving herself to another woman in such a way was a relief rather than a burden. 

"Very good." The praise struck Haru with the force of lightning, and she remained thoroughly stunned until Ann finished her tea and placed the cup back into waiting hands. "Hold that for me, would you?"

Haru nodded, left speechless as Makoto was pulled up into Ann's lap for a deep kiss. She straddled her girlfriend's hips, the steel-lined soles of her boots draped over the edge of the throne and just inches from Haru's face as Ann slid her hands down Makoto's stomach, toying with the laces holding dark armor together. Ann's fingers hooked in two of them and pulled tight, drawing a groan from Makoto's lips, but the sound was stifled into another kiss, one hard enough to leave lipstick smeared across the edge of her mouth.

"Put the cup away." Ann murmured a moment later, snapping Haru out of her hypnotized haze. "I have something else in mind for you." 

Focusing on both her balance and the cup was twice as hard when Makoto was moaning in Ann's embrace, although Haru couldn't tell why until she turned back around again. One of Ann's gloves had been stripped off, and that same hand was now cupped right between Makoto's legs, a hold on one hip encouraging her to grind against it. Haru bit her lip, part of her wishing there were less clothes on to hide the view and the rest of her aching from the constant temptation, the reminder that such a thing wasn't hers to see.

"Now, my love." Ann clearly had spoken to Makoto, but Haru clung to the words nonetheless. "Surely that was enough of an incentive to go get what I asked for?"

Makoto nodded, breath hitching when Ann's hand pressed forward again. "You have no idea." 

They exchanged smiles, a moment of playfulness before Makoto left the throne with shaking knees, stepping in front of Haru but never touching her. It was a matter of inches, close enough that she could have pressed her cheek to one muscled thigh, but with Ann's insistent gaze, she knew better. Yet the image was so distracting Haru didn't notice Ann herself leaning forward until the still-gloved hand caught her by the cheek, forcing her attention upward. 

"You want her, don't you?" Now that smile was laced with a different sort of hunger, although Haru could scarcely tell sweetness from poison when she was in such a state. "You have no idea how hard it's been not to touch Makoto when you're around." 

Haru loathed that she feared being honest, even within the confines of her own mind, but finally the courage surged up into her chest. "Yes. Yes, I want her. And you." 

"I know. That's why I have you looking so beautiful on your knees right now." Ann's thumb swept down Haru's cheek in a slow caress before her hand withdrew completely, leaning back against the throne and uncrossing her legs. "Tend to my boots until Makoto comes back."

Her arms couldn't reach, not at this angle, so Haru made the only choice she could, bowing her head to lick upward from Ann's heel. It left a shine behind on the latex, outlining every stroke and kiss as she made her way inch by inch up the first boot, only occasionally glancing upward to make sure Ann was pleased. There was no real taste, only a smoothness against her tongue and an encroaching heat in the pit of her stomach as she reached the border between the boot and the catsuit underneath, right at mid-thigh.

"Now the other." Ann ordered, but the demand wasn't harsh or cold; it simply put word to Haru's desires, and she answered them in kind, starting at the top of the other boot with a wet kiss. "Good girl."

Haru was nearly bowed all the way to the floor with her mouth against Ann's heel when Makoto's footsteps caught her ear, held up only by both arms trapped against her stomach, but didn't stop until she was told to, Ann's boot finding her shoulder and giving a firm push up. She staggered but managed to balance on her knees again, fighting the urge to look back and discover what Makoto had been sent to fetch.

"Oh, that looks good on you." Ann purred, her attention up over Haru's head, but her growing curiosity was waylaid by the blonde reaching for the zipper around her throat and pulling it down, baring another swathe of skin. "But now I'm all worked up."

The second zipper followed the first, freeing Ann's breasts from their tight confines as silver teeth opened wide, parting until Haru saw the start of golden curls. Her mouth went dry as she was beckoned forward by slender fingers, face right between Ann's knees as her most intimate place was exposed, folds flushed pink and undeniably wet. If Haru had any doubts as to her arousal, Ann's clit was already swollen and peeking out from beneath its hood, the primal scent of sex leaving her dazed right before her head was roughly pulled in to meet its source.

"I want you to service me, Haru." Ann whispered, soft enough that only she could hear. "But you have to fit the part."

Haru wasn't quite sure what that meant until pale fingers flexed around her nape and she felt a sudden pressure, something wrapping around her neck before it was buckled tight. Ann gave the collar a cursory tug, enough to make Haru whimper, only to remember the blue choker that had always been around Milady's neck. Part of her prayed it was the same color before Ann pulled again, directing her to start, and she nudged her nose against slick blonde hair before beginning to lick in slow strokes, wanting to savor Ann's taste.

"There we go. Isn't that better?" The next sound that left Ann's lips wasn't another order but an eager moan, and that encouragement left Haru buzzing with anticipation, wanting to discover every act that could produce such a sound.

Her tongue was circling Ann's entrance when two powerful hands gripped her shoulders from behind, and there was no mistaking Makoto's touch, her distinct presence. Haru was about to pause when Ann groaned a clear demand for her not to, but it was seconds later that she realized the bulge pressing against the back of her head was far too round and thick to belong to Makoto's revolver. She gasped against sensitive skin, wanting to give her permission, but then Makoto also dropped to her knees, body flush against Haru's back.

"I know you've thought about this." Surprisingly tender kisses passed from shoulder to shoulder as Makoto's arms slipped around her waist, finding the buttons of her vest and starting to open them one by one. "What it would be like for both of us to have you at once." 

Hearing such a statement in Makoto's gentle but forthright tone left Haru thoroughly flustered, but she was given a moment's reprieve when Ann playfully batted her hat to the floor, making sure there was no way left to keep her gaze averted. "Of course I have." 

_Then give in._

The words were echoed three times over, but it was Milady's voice that stood out the most, both promise and demand. She wouldn't be judged for her submission, not in this place, and surrender in one matter certainly did not mean it in them all. Haru wanted every part of this, to forsake rules and propriety and every assumption that had ever been made when someone looked at her as if she was fragile, bloodless. For she was a thief too, a willful betrayer, and if the world judged her for such dishonor, Haru would walk to the chopping block with her head held high. 

"Please." She gasped with her mouth wet from Ann's arousal, with Makoto's hands unbuckling her belt to get at what was underneath. " _Please_."

Ann smiled, fingers finding purchase in soft hair before pulling her back into her proper place, where heat and need could reach a perfect, frenzied crescendo. Haru lapped and sucked eagerly while Makoto yanked her shorts down, rolling down the black leggings underneath to find her without a scrap of underwear, and Haru moaned desperately when calloused fingers started to explore her, seeking out a waiting entrance.

A pair of fingers stretched her to a knuckle, but only for a moment, and Haru ached on the withdrawal before the head of Makoto's strap-on took its place, pushing inside her in one slow, controlled thrust. Her hands clenched into fists at the sensation of being so full, but she wasn't allowed to focus on it for long before Makoto began to _move_ , breath hot against Haru's ear as she found a quick, demanding rhythm, one that made it incredibly difficult to keep her tongue working against Ann's clit.

"She stops if you stop." Ann suddenly warned, and that knocked Haru right out of her dilemma.

Rather than think about it, she simply acted, face buried between Ann's thighs with renewed vigor. There was a telling quiver every time she toyed with the soft folds captured in her lips, louder moans each time she wrapped her mouth around the entirety of Ann's clit, and her world simply became that space, its boundary the constant thrust of Makoto's hips driving a thick silicone shaft inside her. Haru felt like the catalyst between them both, energy and pleasure surging back and forth until she could hear nothing but gasps and moans -- no small amount of them her own. 

When Makoto pressed hard against Haru's back, she let out a sound of surprise, only to understand the reason as warm fingers found her clit as well, rubbing it in tight circles. She immediately clenched in sympathy around the toy as it buried its last inch inside her, trying not to lose all sense of time and place when Ann's hips rolled forward, grinding against her face until the tension stretched out like a tightrope, daring Haru to fall.

A moment later she did, hearing Ann orgasm mere seconds before hers followed suit, bliss ricocheting through Haru's nerves until she felt like she was floating, knocked adrift from her body. The only physical anchors were Ann and Makoto's hands on her, continuing to take their own pleasures until Haru heard a whimper in her ear, the hot hand around her collar countered by Makoto's cold mask pressed against the curve of her throat as the woman behind her spent from the mercy of sheer friction.

Haru was a mess as she tried to catch her breath, half-dressed and thighs spread wide, faint slick trails dripping down towards her knees. She licked her lips clean when Ann's hand relaxed, but that did little for the state of her cheeks and chin, nor the rawness in the back of her throat when she felt Makoto pulling out, a weak cry escaping Haru's mouth at the absence left behind.

Yet what came after was Ann slipping down off her throne and wrapping both arms around Haru in a tight hug, Makoto doing the same a moment after. Locked in their embrace, a hundred soothing words were whispered in her ear, praise and thanks that almost made Haru burst into tears. It was an illusion, of course, but one she welcomed with an open heart until the afterglow began to fade, and the throne room did as well.

She came back to the Metaverse astride one of Milady's largest barrels, the warm gun trapped right between her thighs and glossy with the evidence of her release. The Persona herself was leaning down, fan momentarily cast aside to hold Haru against her, fingers stroking through sweat-damp hair as her face rested against the bosom above. A fantasy within a fantasy, a dream within a dream; Haru wasn't exactly sure to describe what had just happened, merely that she was grateful for it.

 _No harm was done._ Milady said, the smug defiance that usually laced her tone now something softer, comforting. _Thought alone is not a betrayal, my princess._

"I'm not so sure about that." Haru said, but it was with a breathless laugh. "But thank you."

Her eyes fell shut once more, and when they opened again, Haru was back in her chair before the vanity. Even with Noir's outfit stripped away, exertion was still written all over her face in the mirror's reflection, cheeks pink and pupils blown wide. Haru put two fingers up to her lips, briefly imagining Ann's lipstick smudged there, then Makoto's palm across her mouth like a gag. It sent a little thrill through her, but the knots of guilt were severed, well and defeated. 

One day she would have to thank them. For now, she was content to be free. 

\--


End file.
